Bend
by Gemmaaaaa
Summary: Because, every now and again, even the Chosen One will bend for his wife.


_**A/N: I originally intended to post a new "Happy Family AU" post today but my damn job got in the way so it wasn't finished in time. Instead you can have this! I always get a lot of people asking for a show of dominant Padme (Especially after "Thill") and here it is! Merry Christmas (happy smutmas in this case!) and Happy Holidays!**_

Padme is almost never in charge when it comes to their intimacies. Usually Anakin takes her with such a fiery passion, dominant and possessive and she's lost to his lust. It simply feels natural to bow to his will, and she loves it… She adores doing as he commands and pleasing him in such ways. Perhaps she should look for more equality in such things but she is quite happy with the way things are between them. They are equal in their marriage, as partners, lovers… It is only between the sheets that she _bends._

However when she does take control, it is a thrill akin to nothing else in her life. It's something that happens rarely, but when it does, it leaves them both in a sated, exhausted heap after all is said and done.

Tonight, is one of these nights.

She instigated it after he walked out of the fresher clad in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist… How can anyone blame her for that? Her husband is nothing short of perfection, and she wants to take advantage of him tonight. It didn't take very much to get him onto the bed, even less to straddle him and kiss a wet trail along his neck and throat, rocking her hips _just enough_ to rouse him beneath her. He could tell easily exactly what kind of night this is, and gave into her seduction with nothing more than a kiss.

Padme takes her time with him, trailing her fingers over every inch of his hard chest, along his muscled arms, exploring her husband's body with tender touches and the occasional kiss to a scar here or there. Even now she can't help but pay loving homage to his body. It doesn't matter; he'll be the one doing the worshipping soon enough.

She reaches for his hands, and guides them up, above his head, and at once a knowing smirk crosses his lips. _It's one of these nights._ She wants him helpless beneath her… Or at the very least, she wants him as helpless as she can make him. When he's the one bending to her will, Padme feels _powerful_ … More like a Queen than she ever did sitting on a throne.

Before long, she ties his wrists to the bedpost with a stripe of fabric from one of her gowns, tightly, though they both know he can get himself out of it in _second_ if he wants to, even without using the Force. Still, he goes along with her game and he plays it well. Anakin has bound her wrists to the bedpost countless times before, and driven her half mad with his teasing each and every time. Fortunately for him, Padme is far more merciful than he is, especially when it comes to pleasure. However this doesn't mean she doesn't take the reins with a tight grip when she gets the chance.

Anakin is nothing less than a wordsmith, he can string together words at a moment's notice and the sweetest complements will roll from his tongue, or the way he tells stories, never lacking a single detail, yet never growing dull either. It's a talent… Her husband has a talented mouth and tonight, he's going to _use it_.

She showers his body with kisses and nips, making him groan or hiss depending on the spot, until she meets his mouth, then she kisses his lips. Unlike many of their other kisses, it doesn't start softly; there is nothing sweet about it. It's all biting and teeth clashing and a battle for dominance. One _she wins_. She pulls back, breaking the kiss and kneels above him, straddling his broad chest and takes a moment to look down at his face, at the smug smirk he sends her and narrows her eyes.

He won't be smug for very long.

Padme slowly slips the thin nightgown she wears up, and off of her body, revealing herself to him inch by inch. When the material is gone, she throws it over her shoulder and moves higher along his body and straddles her husband's face, anticipation making her hands shake. It isn't as if he doesn't do this for her often… If she allows him to, Anakin will spend _hours_ between her legs, _worshipping_ her as if she's nothing less than a _Goddess_. But doing it like this is different. Like this, he is not her husband loving her; instead he is her servant, _servicing_ her. There is a great difference between the two. "You know what to do."

She grips the bars just above his hands as he shows her that Gods yes; he knows _exactly_ what to do. His tongue ravishes her clit, makes love to her core so hotly that Padme swears she sees stars explode before her eyes as her hips rock against him. "Ani… Gods Ani…" He rewards her moans with a long lick and she _whines,_ reaching down with one hand to grab at his hair roughly. She thinks that maybe she hears him hiss, but right now she doesn't care, how can she possibly care when his teeth scrape across her clit so expertly?

At this point she's lost all control over her hips as she all but sits on his face, riding him for every _drop_ of pleasure she can get from that wonderful, wonderful mouth… Each lap of his tongue across her clit sends a wave of pleasure crashing through her, every bit as intense as the first time he ever did this. She hopes the feeling never fades… Taking mercy on him, she lifts her hips just enough to ensure he can breathe; and it happens just as his tongue enters her, tearing a _loud_ cry from Padme's lips, head falling back as her eyes clench shut.

 _It's too much, it's not enough… She needs more and less all at once._

Leaning her entire weight on the bars of the bed, her knuckles white under her desperate hold, and she chants his name, over and over and over again, hips writhing as the blinding pleasure hits, threatening to tear her to pieces and she's rendered utterly useless against the magic of his tongue. Somehow he's managing to draw out her pleasure, making it last far, far too long, yet it's over all too quickly. He only stops when she moves off him, coming to lay by his side, head resting on his shoulder, panting.

She feels both ruined and beautiful at once. _This_ is what he's capable of reducing her to…

He waits, until she's recovered enough to open her eyes before interrupting her fading bliss with a voice hoarse with want, with desperation for even a _sliver_ of the pleasure he's just given her for himself. " _Padme…"_ She watches his hands, both gloved and flesh, curl into fists, no doubt fighting the urge to simply pull himself free from the feeble binding to take _exactly_ what he wants. Oh, she knows he'd take her if he could… Hard, fast, _aggressively_. He'd give her that lustful savagery she knows he's capable of… Any other night she'd happily encourage this. But not tonight. Tonight she is his _Queen_ … And she will _rule_ him.

Gently, she lifts one hand and traces a line along his chest with a single finger, enjoying how he tenses beneath her. He is hard and straining and half of her feels cruel for letting him suffer, but the other half is revelling in this… How can she not? The _Hero Without Fear_ is a quivering, desperate mess beneath _her_ touch. Any woman would _glow_ with such knowledge. But he is all hers… For as long as he shall live, Anakin Skywalker is hers… In the secret parts of her mind, parts she will not allow him access to, Padme is greedy with the knowledge that he is devoted to her, loves only her… _Wants_ only her.

"Tell me," she begins, speaking in a haughty whisper as her fingertip dips into the left side of the V leading to _exactly_ where he wants her touch, "what you," his hips buck and his jaw tenses, " _want."_

Anakin curses immediately, fists growing tighter around the bars. After pleasing her so thoroughly, perhaps she'll grant him his will… _Perhaps._ Or perhaps she'll leave him stiff and aching all night long… Her finger is mere inches away from his hard, hard, length, and Padme's teeth bite into her lip. He's wound tight and ready to snap… She wonders what would happen if she pushes him _just a little further…_

"Touch me… Ride me… Force, let me touch you…" Comes his frenzied whisper, and Padme knows she has him on the precipice… Pleasure or madness… She could give him either, in this moment; she is the most powerful being in the world. She has the Chosen One of the Force bent to her will… He will do _anything_ for her favour in this moment, anything at all. She meets his eyes and tips her head slightly, as if thinking on it and her apparent indecision pulls a wild groan from his lips while his head falls back against the mattress.

She could give him what he wants and straddle his waist, sinking onto him, but she's had her fill of pleasure tonight… So she'll reward him another way, one _equally_ as pleasing for him. After all, her husband is known to refer to her mouth as _paradise_. As she leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, Padme takes him into her hand, sliding it up and down to relieve his ache somewhat. Immediately she's rewarded with his hips lifting to meet her touch. She strokes him, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of his jaw, until she feels him beginning to tense, and continues until she knows he's moments away from the release he needs so badly, then simply _stops._

"You're a Sith…" Anakin hisses, eyes closed tightly, chest heaving with his panting… _Oh her poor, tortured love_ … Perhaps she is being cruel…

"You're _mine_ Skywalker." Padme says this as she captures his lips for another kiss, unable to resist him, she kisses him wetly, tongues massaging each other and she can taste herself from him in a way that shoots sparks all the way down her spine. _If only the HoloNews reporters could see her now._

"Always Angel, always…" He means this, she knows it down to her bones, he will never want another, never love anyone but her. It makes her heart swell each time he says it. At once, Padme moves again, straddling him and beginning a trail of kisses along his chest, pausing briefly to flick her tongue over his nipple, making him gasp. The lower she moves, the more he tenses, and she smirks against his skin. Now, hovering above his hard length, she has a chance to be kind to him, to give him what he so badly needs and pleasure him until he can take no more… And yet, there is another choice, one far more appealing to her right now.

" _Beg me._ " She shall make him _earn_ his pleasure; if he desires his release he shall be the wordsmith she knows he is and beg her for what he wants. Padme can't lie to herself; the prospect of the _great_ Anakin Skywalker begging _her_ for his pleasure is enough to make her giddy. She suspects that even if the world knew of their marriage, _nobody_ would believe they could be like this… It makes her smile widely because she is so much _more_ than what people believe. There is only one person who truly knows every corner of her inside and out.

"Padme… _Please…_ Just do it. I need you, my love, Angel… Please…"

It is _more_ than enough for her, so she finally leans down, taking him into her mouth and moans around him. She bobs her head fast, tongue lavishing the underside of him with attention as she does so, wrapping her palm around his base and pumping gently. Every cry, buck of his hips and groan is mere encouragement for her, making her want to give him _more,_ give him everything she has. All it takes to make him spill is sucking a little harder, moving her hand just a little faster and one swipe of her tongue across his tip and he explodes, filling her mouth to the brim, moaning her name through clenched teeth. It lasts forever, and she works him until her jaw is beginning to ache with the strain. Then it is over, and he slumps, drained and utterly satisfied.

How she finds the energy, she isn't sure, but she crawls to lay beside him again, sleep already calling her name, and immediately his arm comes to wrap around her waist. He truly could have freed himself at any moment… It speaks volumes of his willingness to please her and Padme smiles, threading her fingers through his. For now there is peace… But she suspects it will not last very long.

After all, if she is his Queen, then he is her King, and he shall return the favour sooner than later.


End file.
